The Last Laugh
by Poppy471
Summary: Stubby Boardman is making trouble again, but who gets the last laugh? Allison/Bender romance. M for violence and drugs
1. Mickey Finn

I want to extend a big thank you to my beta, **The Wistful Bloom.**

**Chapter One: Mickey Finn**

Allison starts feeling woozy. She puts her Coke can down so hard it overturns onto the picnic table. She didn't mean to do that. Why is it so hard to keep her eyes open? The smiling boys in front of her double and then overlap. She sways, tries to regain her balance. Her vision seems to be closing down into a tunnel. Distantly, she is aware of raised voices- then blackness.

* * *

Someone is shaking her. She wishes they would stop. There is something coarse and gritty against her cheek. Grass. She's lying in the grass. Now everything is spinning again; she feels like the ground is doing cartwheels with her on it.

* * *

Allison smells something familiar… cigarettes, pot... something else. It's a nice smell, comforting. She opens her eyes to a tumble-down room, and she is lying on a mattress on the floor, surrounded by a nest of dirty clothes, under a bare bulb. She raises her head for a better look around and pain splits her head. Groaning, she subsides. As she is studying a crack in the plaster wall, Bender comes in. Bender. Some wisp of memory tries to rise. Where is she?

"Here," Bender says, holding out a glass of water. She sits up and takes a sip. Her mouth is like cardboard.

"Take these." Bender offers her aspirin. "You feel like crap?"

She groans again.

"You got a mickey finn in your drink. What were you doing with those guys, anyway?"

That's right, the last thing she remembers are the smiling boys.

"Mickey finn?" She's still trying to piece together her memory. "Bender, how did I get here?"

"I carried you most of the way. Why were you with those guys?"

Andy's friends, the smiling boys who offered her a Coke.

"I was sketching the moon setting over the river. Then Stubby and the other guys came in a Camaro."

Bender sets the glass on the windowsill.

"Allison, don't take drinks from people you don't know."

"There was something in my drink? But Andy… Stubby is Andy's friend."

"With friends like that, you don't need enemies."

This is all rather hard to take in. Then she sits up straight, ignoring the pounding in her head. "Bender, what happened to your eye?" There is a red ring underneath it.

"That's from Andy's good friend Stubby. It'll turn black soon. You need to call your parents? They don't know where you are."

"No. They won't notice I'm gone. They never do."

Bender's face is tight, brows drawn together. Now that she looks, his lip is red and puffy too.

"They beat you up? Because of me?"

"They tried, but we settled them. They didn't like the odds when Ian and Chad showed up. Here, drink some more. Water is the best thing. Try to sleep some more, too."

This sounds like a good idea. Her headache has diminished a bit, but she still feels tired and out of it.

* * *

When she wakes again, sunlight is trying to pierce the dirty window. Bender is next to her, asleep with all his clothes on. She shifts into a sitting position; he stirs but doesn't wake. It must be early morning, judging by the angle of the sun.

She sees Bender's yearbook and starts flipping through it. She finds Andy and Claire in many of the casual photos of school events, but she and Bender have only their formal portraits. She locates her own picture in the juniors. Claire, Bender and Andy are in the senior section. She is turning back to the sophomores to look for Brian when Bender says, "Memory lane, eh?"

It's been two years since their detention, and a year since the other three had graduated. Allison herself graduated only a week ago. Her time with Andy seems long ago. He'd gone away to college last fall, as had Claire. The Breakfast Club had broken up and drifted apart.

Bender swings his legs over the edge of the bed and begins putting on his boots.

"We'd better get going, before my father comes to. And I've got to get to work, to Midas."

Allison finds her Converse peeping out from under a pair of jeans and slips into them, then hunts around for her purse. It's slung over a chair by the desk.

"I'll walk you home. You feel better?"

"Yes," she says, and actually does feel better than before. The pounding headache is gone and her mouth feels more like a mouth than a cereal box.

Bender leads the way, and they sneak down the stairs and through the living room, where Bender Sr. is passed out on the couch. Out on the porch, Bender lights a cigarette. It's still cool and dewy. Their route takes them down Shermer Boulevard, under the oak trees, past Victorian houses. They walk in silence, Allison thinking about Stubby and the mickey he gave her. Her thoughts drift to Andy.

Bender must have been thinking along the same lines because he says, "Heard from Andy lately?"

"No." She looks over at him. "You heard from Claire?"

"Nope. Not a word."

Allison's heart sinks. Andy had at least called her.

Bender flicks his cigarette butt out into the street with a practiced movement. They walk on quietly, saying no more. When they reach Allison's street, she wants to acknowledge her gratitude but knows hugging isn't Bender's style, so she just says, "Thanks Bender. See you around."

* * *

Allison still feels indebted, a few days later. What would Stubby and the other guys have done to her? She doesn't like to think about it but her brain keeps going back to that idea. She has an image in her mind, of looking up into a starry sky, Bender looming over her. That must have been when he picked her up.

Her charcoal pencil seems to work of its own accord when she starts the drawing, filling in a spangled sky behind a shadowed face. It takes her two days to finish it. When it is done, she pins it to her bedroom door.

* * *

One Tuesday night in early June, Allison is sitting on the front steps of her parents' bungalow. She has her sketch book out. It is that quiet hour when all is cool, wet with dew, silent. She hears footsteps approaching and Bender comes into view. This seems perfectly normal, that he would be out at this hour, walking by himself.

When she calls his name, he stops and has to look to find her dark shape in the shadows of the porch. He comes up the front walk to stand before her.

"Al, hey. What's up?"

"Just drawing. You?"

"Coming from my girlfriend's house." He puts one booted foot on the third step to adjust the buckle. "Her parents were coming home at midnight, so I had to split." He rummages through his pockets and comes up with a pack of cigarettes, taps one out and gestures to the step next to her. "You mind?"

She shrugs. Bender settles himself, stretching out his legs. "What's that smell?"

"Night blooming jasmine," she answers.

"It's nice. What are you drawing?" He leans over to look.

She shows him her sketch of the full moon striped with clouds, above black tree tops. They sit quietly for a while, the only sounds Bender pulling on his cigarette and Allison's pencil scratching.

Allison's low voice breaks the silence. "Thank you, Bender. For taking care of me that night."

"No problem."

The cool silence of the night settles over them again. The sound of Bender's cigarette butt hitting the street as he flicks it away is distinct.

"Allison, did Andy talk to you at all after he left?"

"He called. Twice. Claire didn't?"

Bender shifts so that his knees support his elbows. "No, not even once. Not even a letter."

After a moment he straightens up. "Well, I guess Cherry was busy. Maybe I'll get a Christmas card." His sarcasm bites deep.

Answering as if this had been a serious supposition, Allison says, "No, you won't. I won't either. It's over. We had a year and that's all."

After a while she says, "It was worth it for me. Was it for you?"

"Oh yeah. Being the princess's toy was totally worth it. In case you didn't notice, all my friends ditched me."

"Not all. Chad and Ian didn't. And Sarah. The rest weren't really your friends to begin with. Or they wouldn't have cared."

"Easy for you to say, Miss I-have-no-friends."

Allison ignores this jab. "Is that who your girlfriend is? Sarah?"

"No. She finally figured she was barking up the wrong tree. She's with Chad now."

Allison has completed her drawing. She closes her sketch book and stands.

"Good night, Bender."

* * *

The next day, Allison emerges from her first art class at the tech college, happy to have something to do. She decides to walk to The Hop for some ice cream. Her parents can't afford a fancy four year college, so she will be attending the tech college in the fall. This art class is just to keep busy.

She stands in a long line, waiting to place her order for a cherry-vanilla waffle cone. Once she has her cone, she makes her way to the counter in the window nook. Weaving through the crowded tables, she sees Bender, with Missy Cramer, sitting on the far side of the shop. She gives a tiny wave. He returns her salute with a wink over the girl's shoulder.

When Allison is down to the last few nibbles of cone, Bender takes the stool next to hers.

"What happened to your girlfriend?"

"She has to babysit her little brother. What are you drawing now?" Bender indicates her sketchbook.

"You can look," she says, sliding it over.

The first page he turns to is covered with odd, crooked lines.

"What is this mess?" he asks, surprised.

Allison laughs. "It's my hand."

He looks at her incredulously.

"It's my hand, drawn without looking and without lifting my pencil."

He settles a bit. "OK, yeah, I can see that. But why did you do that?"

"Art class. It teaches you to see."

"If you say so." He flips back and finds the full moon striped with clouds. "This is more like it."

He flips around some more, looking at different pictures... a flower bed, an oak tree, a pair of shoes, a cat lying in the grass. He comes back to the full moon.

"This is the one I like." He hands the book back.

"You can have it. I'll mount it for you." She tucks it away in her purse.

* * *

A few nights later, Allison is on the porch steps, leaning against a column, looking up at the sky and enjoying the jasmine. Bender appears again, kicking a rock down the street. When she calls his name, he doesn't have to look around to find her.

"Hey, Al. Drawing again?"

"No, just smelling the night."

Bender seats himself one step down from her.

"Missy is in deep shit with her parents now. They came home early tonight and busted us."

"What were you guys doing?" Allison asks.

"We were getting a little too friendly, in her parents' opinion."

This is interesting. "How friendly were you guys getting?"

"Why do you girls ask questions like that?" His indignation doesn't cover his embarrassment.

Allison smiles. "I have something for you."

She rises and enters the house. When she returns, she is holding a mounted sketch, the one of the full moon. It is inserted in a glossy clear plastic envelope.

"Hey, thanks. This looks good."

"I'm going to bed. Good night, Bender."


	2. Ice

Once again, I must thank** Wistful Bloom, **my amazing beta.

**Chapter Two: Ice**

Two weeks later, when Bender approaches Allison on her porch, he doesn't ask to sit. He just falls into a hunched position, head in his hands.

"What's wrong, Bender?"

"Missy kicked me to the curb. She doesn't want to see me anymore."

Allison puts her hand on Bender's shoulder. "What happened?"

"I guess she found someone she liked better. Guy named Henry." He tosses his head. "If that isn't a dork name, I don't know what is."

"I'm sorry, Bender."

"Hell, her loss. I wasn't that stuck on her anyway." He angrily lights a cigarette. "I'm through with girls. Buncha snakes in the grass."

They sit quietly for a while, Bender folded into himself.

"I guess I'd better go. Work tomorrow."

"Good night, Bender." Allison stands and gives him a hug. To her surprise he hugs her tight and then he's gone.

* * *

That Saturday night, after working hard on her current painting, Allison settles down for a late dinner and _The Twilight Zone_. As she's eating, she hears heavy feet on the porch, then someone knocking.

Looking through the high square pane in the door, she sees Bender pacing. She opens the door. Bender turns abruptly.

"Hey, Allison. Whatcha up to? You busy? Your folks home?" He says all this very fast, eyes darting about.

She opens her mouth, preparing to answer, but suddenly Bender has slipped inside.

"Quick, close the door." He closes the door himself, pulling it out of her grasp. "I don't think they saw me. They've been following me for a while." He peers through the window in the door.

"So hey, what are you doing? You have paint on your hands. What have you been painting? Wanna do my portrait?" He laughs. His eyes have never stopped moving, like a pinball machine.

"Bender, what is wrong with you?" She doesn't like this at all.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, everything's perfect. Couldn't be better. I feel great."

Now he is playing with the keys of the piano with one hand, the other hand rummaging in his pocket.

"Bender! Stop!"

He yanks his hand away from the piano as if burned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was special. Of course, my bad. I should have known. What are you doing tonight?" His other hand is finished rummaging, he has come up with a pack of cigarettes.

"You can't smoke in here!"

He jumps. "Oh man, I keep screwing up. I'll go outside, OK?' He puts his hand on the doorknob, then lets go as quickly. "No, they might still be out there. I'll wait."

"Who might be out there? You're making no sense."

"I think they started following me at the party. When I left. They're in two cars, I think, a blue one and a red one. They must know Ian gave me some. I don't know if they're cops or what, but they're definitely following me."

"What did Ian give you?" Allison's heart is sinking. She knows what Ian gave him.

"Some ice. Great stuff. It's pretty, looks just like those things in Superman's fortress of solitude. It's like crystals or something. I feel like Superman, too. You want some?"

"Bender, you have to go."

"Oh, man, you're busy. I'm sorry, I intruded. Bad manners on my part."

"No, I'm not busy, but you're on drugs. You need to go."

He looks alarmed. "Oh God, what have I done, you think I'm some kind of druggie. I've never done this before, I swear. But no, that's cool, no drugs here, I understand." He starts backing toward the door.

"I'm sorry Allison. I don't know what I was thinking." He seems to be grounded for a second, as if he really does understand. But then he's off again. "I've probably lost them, I should be ok, no one should be following me now. I'll go, no problem."

He backs out of the door. Allison closes the door behind him. She stands on tip toe to look out the window and sees him hurrying off, head down, looking like he might be muttering to himself.

* * *

The next morning in her bath, Allison thinks about Bender's visit. Smoking pot is no big deal, but amphetamines… He said he'd never done it before. Maybe once will be enough.

She gets out of the bathtub and pulls the plug, wishing her problems and worries would drain away like the water.

* * *

The night is deep dark, no moon or stars. With the lights out, Allison is enfolded in darkness, soft scented night air around her. She hugs her knees for comfort. When she sees Bender approaching, she sighs. He looks terrible, huge dark circles under his eyes, his hair plastered back, his cheeks sunken.

His voice is a croak when he says, "Al, I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"I know it. I wasn't thinking straight."

"That's right," she says, "you were on drugs and acting stupid and crazy."

"That speed, it was a big mistake. Please forgive me, Al."

"You have to promise me- don't ever do it again."

"I promise," Bender says with great vehemence. "You wouldn't believe how bad I feel tonight."

"Good. You remember how you feel, next time someone offers you speed."

"Al, Ian is in deep. He tried to give me more when I said I was feeling bad. He said it would fix everything, just take some more. That's how he's living his life now." Bender's voice breaks. "We've been friends since first grade. I've always been able to protect him. He won't listen to me."

"Sometimes, Bender, there's nothing you can do. C'mon, sit down. I'll get you some Advil, give you a massage."


	3. The Red Poppy

Thank you to** The Wistful Bloom **for seeing this through to the end.

**Chapter Three: The Red Poppy**

Allison has volunteered to help prepare for the college's student art show and her next couple of days are busy ones. It turns out she has a knack for dealing with recalcitrant track lighting, and is handy with matting and clip frames. She is also put to work painting the exhibition space. It is with paint spattered clothes she returns home on Thursday to find the note from her parents. They've gone out of town for a long weekend and won't be back until Monday night. It figures, they never come to her student shows.

Allison had wanted to skip the opening. So many people would be there, and someone, some stranger, might want to talk to her. Her teacher had managed to convince her to come, at least for the beginning, to help with the refreshments.

Her own contribution to the show is a red poppy in oil pastels. It is large, almost eighteen inches square, and shows only one poppy in close up. It is detailed and realistic, with a darkened spot where wilting has set in, beads of moisture sheening the petals. One black stamen has fallen into the cup of the flower. Imperfect, but perfectly captured. For once she is satisfied with her work. It gives her pleasure to see it hanging in its own spot, standing out from the others.

Once the wine and cheese are arranged, there is nothing for her to do but stand around in her long black dress adorned with a narrow red scarf. She felt she needed to dress up in honor of the poppy.

Eventually the show space in the student center fills with patrons and family and friends. Allison hides near the emergency exit, behind a neglected sculpture of a chicken. But she sees how people collect around her poppy, stay there longer than at the other pieces.

Then she sees Bender. He sidles in, appearing as uncomfortable as she feels, dressed in his usual boots and jean jacket. Seeing him looking shy makes her bold. This is her environment. She emerges from behind the chicken and goes to his side. He's looking at an abstract nude, his head cocked sideways, as if it might make more sense that way.

"Hi," she says. He turns and sees her for the first time.

"Holy shit, you scared me. Where did you come from?"

She smiles and gestures vaguely. "How did you know about the opening?"

"I found this at The Hop." He pulls a postcard out of his jean jacket pocket, the postcard advertising the show. "You look good, not all that black all the time," he says, tugging the end of her scarf. "Where are your parents?"

"They didn't come. They never do."

"That's shitty." He's indignant on her behalf.

"Oh, I'm used to it. It doesn't matter."

He looks at her skeptically, but she shrugs.

"You want to start here? Look at everything?"

"Honestly," he says, "I came to see yours. I'm not exactly highbrow. Like this thing… I don't even know what it is, and I sure don't understand why someone would want to paint it."

They contemplate the painting for a while. Finally he shakes his head. "Nope, don't get it. Show me yours."

Allison conducts him into the open area where her piece hangs.

"That's a nice flower. It's…" He seems to be groping for a word. "Well, it's nice. I understand that. It's pretty, like summer and rain."

His inelegant praise touches her. That's what she was trying to express, the beauty of rain drenched color in the heat of summer. They stand and look at it for a while.

"Alright, I've seen your flower, let's blow this place."

"Where are we going?"

"Let's get some beer and go to the river."

* * *

Bender uses his fake ID to buy some Budweiser at the Pak'N'Pay, while she waits outside. When he emerges, successful, they turn north, toward the river. They detour around the chain blocking off the park. It's well known that the jocks simply drive around the chained road on the grassy verge. The chain is more symbolic than effective.

Allison and Bender settle in at a picnic table that looks out over the river. Bender breaks out a joint to go with the beer, but Allison declines.

"Ha, you don't need it anyway, all that crazy stuff running around in your head."

"I don't have crazy stuff in my head!" she says indignantly, but can't suppress her laughter.

"Where did that nympho thing come from?"

"Hah!"

"The thing I like about you is that you don't need weed or anything to make you cool. You're a natural."

He shifts a bit and looks away as Allison absorbs the unstudied compliment.

Bender breaks the mood with a noisy guzzle of beer and a belch, then launches into a dirty joke.

"So this naked blonde walks into a bar," he begins, "with a poodle under one arm, and a two-foot salami under the other. The bartender says, I guess you won't be needing a drink. Naked lady says-"

They both turn as a car with its high beams on pulls up and blinds them.

"Oh shit, cops," Bender says, but Allison knows who it really is.

They hear the car doors clunk and two guys come around so that they are silhouetted by the blinding headlights. The engine and lights are cut and a third joins them. It's Stubby and his friends, in the Camaro. Before she realizes what is happening, Bender has pushed her behind him and pulled out his switchblade. He opens it with a snick.

"No, don't, Bender," Allison cries. He can't use a knife, he'll get in so much trouble. Attacking someone with a knife is too serious.

"That's right. Don't, Bender. There are three of us and we know you won't use that knife." That is Stubby.

"Just give us the girl, we'll leave you alone," says one of the others.

"All we want is that bitch."

The three young men advance. Bender continues to push Allison behind him, but she struggles and whispers, "I know how to fight. Let me go."

"That's right, honey, come out here and we won't hurt your boyfriend."

Bender lets her go. She stays behind him, but to the left. Then it all happens so fast, she doesn't know what Bender is doing; she just focuses on her job. The first guy who advances grabs her arm and pulls her toward himself. Mistake. She knees him in the balls as hard as she can. He doubles over in pain and falls back. The second guy pulls her by her scarf. Instead of resisting, she pulls on his shirt hard, so that she can ram him in the nose with her forehead. Something gives with a sick wet sound. Her forehead is in agony, but the guy is staggering back. He stumbles and falls.

Then Bender has her by the hand and they are running. He leads them into a wilderness of trees where no car can follow, but they don't stop running. They come to a fence and he helps her climb it, then they are scrambling up a railroad embankment and back down again. A path appears through more trees and this time they slip under a corner of broken chain link fence. They come out of the trees into a dead end street. Bender stops and bends over, breathing hard.

"You are," he pants, "the coolest girl ever."

She catches her breath before he does. After a fit of coughing, he says, "I've got to quit smoking." He spits on the ground.

"You took out two guys all by yourself. Where did you learn how to do that?" Bender asks.

"I read it in a book. I mean, getting him in the balls is obvious, everyone knows that one. The forehead thing I read in a spy novel. Is your hand OK?"

She takes his hand in hers and peers at the split knuckles. She flexes the fingers gently. "Does this hurt?"

"No, I know how to throw a punch. I'm OK."

She looks up into his face and says, "You're going to have another black eye." She touches his cheek. "And a big bruise."

He covers her hand with his. His pupils are dilated and she gets lost in the darkness of them. When he bends to kiss her, she pulls him closer, her body pressing against his.

"Ouch!" Their kiss is interrupted when Allison squeezes his ribcage too hard.

"I'm sorry! Are you bruised there too?"

"Oh yeah, he got me good. You'll have to teach me some of your moves, Al." He kisses her forehead gingerly.

"Let's go back to my house. I'll put some ice on your eye."

* * *

"Here." Allison hands Bender a large bag of frozen peas. "It's better than an ice pack."

She leads him to her bedroom. "Take off your boots and lie down. I'll put this on your ribs." She has another bag of frozen vegetables. He does as instructed and she gently pushes up his shirt. The spot is already turning purple. She lays the bag against him and he sighs.

She climbs into bed on the other side and cuddles up to him, her head on his shoulder.

"I can't believe it. I'm in bed with a beautiful woman and all I can do is lie here."

"Get some sleep, loverboy."

* * *

In the morning, Allison finds herself pulled into the curve of Bender's sleeping body, wrapped in his embrace. She carefully disentangles herself without waking him.

When he stumbles into the kitchen, she has pancakes ready.

"Nothing weird in these, is there?" He pokes at his stack suspiciously.

"These are optional." She pushes maple syrup towards him, but displays her own topping: Pixie Stix. She adds sausage links to their plates and pours orange juice.

"Great service. I think I'll stay here every night, just for the breakfasts."

"This is an equal opportunity house and men must take their turn making breakfast." She points her Pixie Stix at him.

They are startled by heavy knocking on the front door. When Allison opens it, she finds two police officers. She gapes at them.

Bender comes up behind her, saying, "If it's Jehovah's Witnesses, tell them-" He stops, as surprised as Allison.

"I'm guessing you're John Bender?" the larger officer asks, looking at Bender's battered face.

"Yeah, that's me. What's the problem, officer?" Allison is fervently hoping Bender can keep his defiant streak under control.

"Stanford Boardman claims you and this young lady assaulted him and his two friends unprovoked last night at the river." He looks at Bender carefully. "I've come informally to see if we can sort this out. This is not the first time Boardman has started something he can't finish. Seems to me you came out just as much worse for wear as he did. And two against three aren't fair odds in my book, especially when one of the two is a young lady."

The smaller cop asks Allison, "Did you really head butt him? Is that how you broke his nose?"

"Smith," the larger officer says, "let me take care of this. Don't answer that, Miss. A nose was broken and we don't know how that happened, and if I have my way, we'll leave it at that. Now, do either of you want to press charges against Boardman and his gang?"

Allison shakes her head. Bender says, "No, sir," after a pause.

"Good, I'm glad of that. You won't hear any more about this nonsense. I'm going to inform Mr. Boardman that if either of you turn up with the stuffing beaten out of you again, I _will_ encourage you to press charges against him next time. Have a good day." The two officers tip their hats and clump down the front steps.

When Allison closes the door, Bender heaves a great sigh of relief. "That was a first. I have never had the cops on my side before."

He snorts. "You broke his nose! Atta girl, that's the way to do things." He puts his arm around her as they return to the kitchen. "I think I'm going to like having you as my girlfriend."


End file.
